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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339935">Haircut</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook'>icylook</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vergil Surana [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:27:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I guess I have to choose one of those, do I.” His sigh isn’t dramatic at all. He just mourns the state of his hair after he’ll have it cut by anyone here. Maybe he could do it himself, he thinks, use the mirror and his blade after he sharpens it some more.</p><p>“I can do this for you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zevran Arainai/Male Surana, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Vergil Surana [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Haircut</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zevran notices his split hair ends and tells Vergil as much.</p><p>“Know someone with decent skill and sharp tools?” Vergil looks up at him from his writing, one brow up in silent question. </p><p>“I guess I have to choose <em> one </em> of those, do I.” His sigh <em> isn’t </em>dramatic at all. He just mourns the state of his hair after he’ll have it cut by anyone here. Maybe he could do it himself, he thinks, use the mirror and his blade after he sharpens it some more.</p><p>“I can do this for you.”</p><p>He blinks at Vergil. His black hair is pulled away from his face with few thin strands escaping an otherwise pristine braid. It’s much shorter than before but longer than months ago. Zevran won’t forget the rough feel of it under his fingers, matted colour of brutally chopped length. He swallows at the uncomfortable tightness in his chest, ignoring the memory of that time. He hopes the smile on his lips is as easy as he aims it to be.</p><hr/><p>Vergil uses hairpins and his scissors are sharp. “No need to look so doubtful,” He teases. “I know what I’m doing.”</p><p>“I’m in your hands then.” Zevran holds onto the towel put around his shoulders so the cut hair won’t stick everywhere. He tries to relax under Vergil’s gentle touch as he parts his hair, pinning up the strands to get them out of the way.</p><p>He can see him in the mirror, a frown of concentration on his face, lips slightly parted when he thinks of the best angle to cut. He isn’t in a hurry, comparing the length of each thicker strand to the one on the other side. Zevran doesn’t mind when Vergil doesn’t say much beside occasional grunt of affirmation that he listens as he fills in the silence for both of them with few light tales.</p><p>Zevran closes his eyes with a hum when Vergil tilts his head this way or that, stroking his scalp while he gathers the next parts of his hair. The snip of scissors is quiet and it doesn’t make him shift with how close the blades are to his throat. It’s almost pleasant and from what he sees in the reflection, the hair ends are even on both sides when Vergil lets them slip back over his shoulders.</p><p>When was the last time he enjoyed his hair being cut by someone like that? Maybe not as slow as now, but as casual and smooth. A memory of thicker fingers holding onto his strands, pulling when he couldn’t sit still, busy with talking and gesturing at Rinna in the stuffy room. The only open window did nothing to stifle the humid atmosphere, noises and smell of the city playing on his senses more strongly. Taliesen was the best with the blade when it came to haircutting, even if he kept his own short. He always shuddered at what Rinna and Zevran did to their hair if they were left to their own devices, so they used his <em> goodwill </em>for their own gain. Not many people could be trusted with sharp objects near his vital places. </p><p>Vergil’s fingertips are cold when they brush his ear and he blinks. The hand holding scissors is angled away from his head and Vergil lets the handful of Zevran’s hair spill freely between his fingers. </p><p>“All done.”</p><p>“Already?” Zevran teases and stands, feeling his body unlock from how long he was sitting in the same position. He lets the towel fall away from his shoulders, ignoring Vergil’s soft huff when the hair scatters on the floor.</p><p>Zevran leans closer to the mirror, inspecting the effect of Vergil’s work. It seems the length is the same on both sides and he twists his body so he could see the neat trim between his shoulder blades. It’s even, from what he can notice at the awkward angle. He glances at Vergil’s reflection. The mage is observing him with neutral expression, his forefinger absently tapping on one of his crossed his arms. Hairpins and scissors neatly put away in leather sheath, waiting for the verdict. He’d like to see him squirm for a little longer and it’s a bit difficult to fight the smile when he says “It’s presentable.”</p><p>Vergil tilts his head to the side. “Only so?”</p><p>“I can go out and no one will faint. Probably.” He saunters closer to Vergil. The mage rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome.” </p><p>“Why, thank you.” Zevran’s hand rests on Vergil’s hip with a purpose and he’s leaning down to allow the slow and unhurried kiss. Vergil’s hand is cupping the side of his neck, his thumb stroking the skin under his ear and he sighs. It’s when his tongue traces the seam of Vergil’s mouth the mage backs away and he follows until the palm on his nape tightens for a moment. The amber of Vergil’s eyes darkens when he gasps softly, deliberately licking his lips. </p><p>“I’ve got to get back to work.” Slightly rough whisper tickles his skin. The brush of Vergil’s lips at the corner of his mouth is brief before he steps back and Zevran lets his hand fall away from his waist.</p><p>“Clean this up.”</p><p>Zevran looks at the mess of gold locks on the ground, then at Vergil already sitting behind his desk. He lowers his chin to playfully bat his eyelashes at him. “What, no magic word?”</p><p>Vergil doesn’t look up from his papers. “There are no magic words.”</p><p>Zevran taps his lips. “Funny, I’d think that there are few you could use while you’re ordering me around, like open u-”</p><p>“Please Zevran, clean the mess on the floor so I won’t get your hair stuck to my clothes for weeks like I’d own a cat that actually has fur.”</p><p>“I think Ana would look good in blond.” The withering stare makes him snicker as he looks around for a broom. And doesn’t find one, because Vergil usually uses spells for tidying up simple clutter. Zevran won’t go on all fours just to sweep the hair with the towel and doesn’t really want to go out of the room to search for something useful. He weighs his options.</p><p>“You could just snap your fingers and vanish it.”</p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“But you won’t.”</p><p>Vergil’s lips twitch before the paper in his hand covers half of his face as he reads it. “Mhm.”</p><p>Such a short sound shouldn’t carry as much mockery. He places both of his hands on the desk. “Let’s make a deal.”</p><p>That gets Vergil’s attention as he lowers the paper to look at him properly. “Yes?”</p><p>Zevran lets his voice drop down. “I’ll get you something you desire.”</p><p>Vergil looks at his face then over his body. “I’ll get that anyway.” </p><p>“Well yes, but I’ve heard kitchens have something you’d like today.” He pauses when he notices interest sparking in Vergil’s eyes. “A slice of peach pie.” Vergil’s jaw moves slightly when he swallows and Zevran grins, as he has already won.</p><p>“Two.” Vergil nods and flicks his wrist. Zevran glances over his shoulder at the mini-tornado of cut hair that flutters and gets dumped in a small bucket near the desk. </p><p>“Spotless clean, bravo!” He chuckles when Vergil waves him away and he walks toward the entrance, admiring his view in the mirror on his way. His reflection winks at him when he passes with a smile.</p><p>He’ll get Vergil the entire pie.</p>
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